Immortal Servant
by kage-inari
Summary: For lack of a better title - -; I thought that I might start up an M-rated novel because I can't continue Necropolis van Schatten without all that sexual content (resulting from stuff on dA) filtering in, which I do NOT want (NvS is strictly rated T for a reason) *NOTE*: Please excuse my wild imagination...this really has NOTHING to do with the main plot of Princess Resurrection
1. Prologue

**NOTE**: This mark " **x** **x** **x**" means a change in point of view._  
_

Sometimes the point of view changes with the beginning of a new chapter, too.

* * *

_ego assident potentia voluntatis quanto resistentia, dolor, cruciatus durat et scit, ut transferrentur ad illius commoda | sanus homo, non cruciatu alii - generaliter cruciatus qui conversus in tortoribus | malae conscientiae cruciatus inferno animam viventem | in posterum quaestio ludicras iterum fieri divites illudere | inertibus miser cuius manu et corde ferre potest ad cruciandum quicquam infra, est semper primus ad fractus quod satus a minima dolor vel aequalis hostem | ferae nunquam occidere recreationis causa, solus est cui proximi sui morte dolorem ipsum ridiculum est_

**_Timor validius maxime._**

Fear is the greatest weapon.

* * *

****PROLOGUE****

_"Ah – no, master, s-stop – _(gasp)_ – mercy –_– _no, please, master – oh **master, I beg of you** –"_

The terrified vampire was barely conscious through the onslaught of excruciating pain as his werewolf master continued to violate him, running a rough tongue up the trembling torso of the former.

Already the vampire's eyes were glazed over and his breathing was ragged and uneven. Saliva trickled out of the corner of his mouth as he struggled to fight against wave after wave of agony.

_He has to give in sometime,_ thought the werewolf as he continued his merciless ministrations. _There's no way that an Immortal can fight **this **kind of torture – didn't father say they had zero psychological defenses?_ He smirked as the vampire tried in desperation to squirm out of his reach, and tightened his hold on the hapless man.

_There is no way I'm giving him any mercy_.

**x** **x** **x**

Five hours later, the vampire was still attempting in vain to escape from the iron grasp of his master. Every single rasp of that coarse tongue, every single thrust of his master's member – he couldn't stand it, it was pure _agony,_ it had to _stop_ – he would go _insane_ –

And then everything went black.


	2. Chapter 1: Timor Validus Maxime

**I: Timor Validus Maxime**

Fifteen-year-old Samuel Jacobson grinned cruelly as his Immortal vampire slave collapsed and lay unmoving on the silken covers. _Ah, but hadn't he sworn that he'd never give in to my touch?_ The werewolf smirked again as he extracted himself from the motionless body and pulled up the bunched-up dress slacks, grimacing at the vampire's choice of wardrobe. _The Schaffers really need to consider modernizing a little_.

The thought was partially directed at the man in front of him.

Zeppeli was the eldest of the Schaffer brothers at eight hundred and fifty-six years old, and thus more mature than the two brats that were his younger brothers. However, preferring to adhere to strict Immortal traditions, he never bothered to adjust to contemporary human fashion because he found it bothersome to live by the traditions of what he called "worthless, idiotic mortals".

_Well, today is the day he's gonna have to change._

**x** **x** **x**

As Samuel got up from the bed and slipped out the door to wash off from his little "excursion", there was a sudden movement from the figure still lying on the covers. With a muffled groan, Zeppeli pushed himself up and leaned heavily against the plush pillows.

"Ah, this is terrible," he sighed._ He dominated me again_, the vampire thought crossly as he rubbed his sore shoulder blades – the werewolf had forced him to lie in a demeaning position all evening long as he had his way with the shivering and crying Immortal. Even now, Zeppeli cringed to think of how much humiliation Samuel had put him through.

_I suppose I shouldn't make empty promises then –_

His train of thought was interrupted by a heavy something being thrown in his face. Zeppeli pulled the offending object off his face irritably and stared at the plain white T-shirt and jeans, then back up at the sharply featured face of his master.

_Not again_…..

"How many times do I have to tell you that I am _not_ going to dress like those worthless imbeciles?!" the Immortal growled in annoyance as he prepared to fling the bag back at Samuel, only to be stopped short by his master's firm hand.

Zeppeli swallowed nervously at the dangerous look in the teenage werewolf's eyes. Jacobsons were prone to great fits of anger when their Immortal slaves didn't obey them, and the unfortunate vampire had been subject to such explosions of temper quite a bit. After all that roughhousing, Zeppeli wasn't sure he wanted to go through another round of _that_, so he bowed his head and muttered a hasty apology.

**x** **x** **x**

Samuel's expression softened just a bit at the evident fear that the Immortal was displaying, but he wasn't satisfied with the amount of deference he was receiving.

_Guess you'll just have to learn,_ the werewolf decided. He gently pushed Zeppeli back on the covers, enjoying the panic in the vampire's eyes as he unbuttoned the already damp frilled shirt and rubbed his hand against the base of the latter's dark-skinned throat.

The resulting effect was instantaneous.

Zeppeli's breath hitched as he uttered a strangled moan and his body arched towards his master against his will. Frantically the vampire struggled against his primal nature but to no avail; he was trapped.

"No," he pleaded in desperation. "Please, master …." His body temperature had already begun to rise in response to the sexual advances of the unrelenting werewolf, and for Immortals, it was impossible to fight against such a strong instinct. "Master –" his voice faltered again – "no, oh please – _ahhh_"

The rest of whatever Zeppeli had meant to say was caught up in a sudden rush of ecstasy as Samuel began to nibble at the base of his throat. The vampire unwillingly leaned in to the touch; his amber eyes closed in bliss as he slowly gave in to his sexual desires, oblivious of the lingering smirk about his master's lips.

**x** **x** **x**

As soon as Zeppeli's eyes closed, Samuel knew he had won the struggle. He pushed the already barely conscious vampire up against the pillows again and unceremoniously wrenched off the now completely soaked shirt.

_Does he really think he can win against his master?_ the werewolf thought contemptuously as he toweled off the sweat from the Immortal's upper body and face, and tugged the T-shirt over his head. _Ugh, Immortals never seem to learn their place amongst us…_ He finished pulling the jeans over Zeppeli's immobile form and buttoned them. _Maybe it's because they think they're more intelligent than us._ Samuel smirked at that notion. _Wonder why we're the ones dominating them then?_

Just as the werewolf was finishing that thought, Zeppeli opened his eyes and stared blankly at him. Seeing the smirk on his master's face, the vampire then slowly looked down at his new outfit…. Oh, the look on his face was priceless…. and closed his eyes in resignation, running a hand through the mess that was his normally neat white hair.

"Well, I suppose you win," the Immortal said wearily, stretching his arms and leaning back against the bed frame, ignoring the satisfied grin on the werewolf's face as he tipped his head back against the pillows. "Did you want to go somewhere?"

He did not get a response. Zeppeli lifted his head off the bed frame and looked condescendingly at Samuel. "Is something the matter,_ dog_?"

At that, the werewolf bristled angrily and bared his canines, growling, "If you call me that again, you_ know_ what's going to happen." The vampire's only reply was a small smirk as he then leaned on his master's shoulder, to which the latter stiffened and then gradually placed his hand on his subordinate's head.

_Ah, but it's entertaining to see your reaction_.

Samuel jumped slightly and then glared at Zeppeli, whose smirk was now fully visible. "I told you not to use telepathy! It's an invasion of my mental privacy!" shouted the werewolf, who was clearly unnerved by said "invasion of mental privacy".

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry about intruding on your _privacy_, master," snickered the vampire. "I didn't mean to 'burst your bubble', as those idiots always say –"

"Do you Immortals never know your limits?" Samuel growled as he bit into his arm, and then realized what he was doing. _Crap, I did it again!_

It was a bad habit of the werewolf's to bite either his hand or arm whenever he was stressed out or agitated, and since he was so easily agitated, he often inflicted wounds upon himself. And now Zeppeli was bound to scold him for injuring himself again—

What he didn't expect was for said vampire to gently take a hold of his bitten arm and begin tenderly licking the wound.

"Z-zeppeli? What on earth are you doing?" Samuel stammered as the Immortal continued to lap at his injury. Concern from Zeppeli was almost nonexistent; he never seemed to care about his master's welfare when Samuel was younger, except to give him a light admonishment about injuring himself. And even then, it seemed to be more of a game to the vampire than anything else.

_Healing your wound,_ answered Zeppeli mildly. The lack of disdain in his tone shocked Samuel as well. Since when did Zeppeli Schaffer actually care enough about him to heal his injuries? Then he realized as he slipped into unconsciousness that the vampire had just used telepathy _again_…but he would let that one slide since the Immortal was doing him a favor…


End file.
